


baby it's cold outside

by Bagell



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: But only a tiny bit, Cats, F/F, Fluff, Rated T for language, Reunions, because there is cursing, show!maureen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 07:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19942600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagell/pseuds/Bagell
Summary: It takes a minute for Clary to get her thoughts together, forgetting all about the cats and the reason she marched all the way out into the cold for a second, too taken by the sight in front of her.They speak up first. “I uh, think our cats fell in love.”-Or, Clary finds a piece of her past and a piece of her future the day she finds out her cat has fallen in love.





	baby it's cold outside

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt "our cats fell in love while being outside what do we do now?"
> 
> this prompt is ridiculously cute lol hope i did it justice!! i've been really really loving the clary/maureen ship recently, both romantic and platonic so i hope y'all enjoy what i threw together of them :") honestly clary kind of wrote herself bc maureen is gorgeous and she just,, did her own thing
> 
> for team red in the sh wlw fic bingo!

“Gravy!” Clary calls, socked feet padding around the house. “Gravy, Gravy, come on…”

The gray cat had disappeared while Clary was getting him food. Typical.

She searches all around the house, opening cabinets and checking closets and drawers and places Gravy would never logically crawl to, but since when has logic ever applied to cats? She flips over a cushion in the main living room couch. _Oooh._ No cat, but one… two… three… three and a half… five dollars and thirty five cents in coins scattered and clumped in the crevices of the couch. Nice. Through her periphery, she sees a swipe of gray out the window. It’s gone by the time she turns her head but she’s not chancing it. Clary dashes to the front door, slamming it open and launching herself outside.

She abruptly turns around and puts on shoes when she feels the temperature of the snowy ground pierce through her socks.

And of course, the second time Clary steps foot outside, Gravy is nowhere to be found. _Fuck._ She’s _sure_ he’s out here though. Clary closes the front door behind her, looking down to make sure Gravy doesn’t suddenly appear and sneak through her legs inside. She walks off the steps to the front door, feet crunching in the snow. “Gravy,” she calls again. Clary round the front of the house, thinking about giving up and just leaving him food outside and the door open for him to come in when he’s too cold, when she spots him. 

“Gravy!” she says, stepping closer, until she sees he has company.

Gravy is facing away from Clary, sitting half curled up and nuzzling a light brown cat. Clary covers her mouth on a coo when the other feline leans forward to lick at Gravy’s fur, the two coming closer together to bump noses.

It’s a second later that Clary looks to the left and sees she’s been joined in watching the two cats. Standing next to her is someone about her height, maybe a bit shorter, with smooth brown skin and curly hair that ends right above their shoulders. When Clary turns more fully to them, they turn too, and the ends of their hair bounce, never quite settling. One side of their head is shaved, and they’re only wearing a thin long sleeve and puffer vest despite the cold.

It takes a minute for Clary to get her thoughts together, forgetting all about the cats and the reason she marched all the way out into the cold for a second, too taken by the sight in front of her.

They speak up first. “I uh, think our cats fell in love.”

Clary nods and darts a look over at said cats. They’re still cuddling, tails flicking slowly. It’d be adorable if she wasn’t worried about them being out in the freezing snow. She looks back at the stranger. “Yeah, that uh, seems to be the case. I’m Clary, she/her.” She sticks out a hand, offering to shake but not pushing.

The stranger’s brow furrows, and Clary worries she might have said something wrong before a look of recognition blooms across their face. “Wait, _Clary?_ Clary _Fray?_ As in Simon’s best friend back in middle school Clary?”

Clary has to think for a second, then nods again. “Yeah, that’s me, how do you--” she stops, suddenly. “Oh my god, _Maureen?_ ”

“Yes!” Maureen shrieks, and suddenly they’re hugging.

“Oh my god,” Clary whispers when they’ve separated, arms still half around each other. “It’s been so long, how _are_ you?”

“I’m great,” Maureen says, smiling, and Clary finds her lips mimicking the shape. “I actually went to medical school and studied neurology.”

“No way,” Clary says, gaping. “Look at you! Do you still play piano?”

“A little bit here and there. But enough about me,” Maureen says. “What about you? I see you’re a cat mom now.”

Clary smiles wide. “Yeah, Gravy here is my baby.” She turns to look at the cats, who still haven’t seemed to notice them at all. “Who’s yours?”

“His name is Vamp, short for Vampire,” Maureen says, smiling fondly at the brown cat.

“There has to be a story behind that name.” 

“I bonded with him, and two seconds later he bit me. Also I just think he has kinda big teeth.” 

Clary snorts at that. “You never change, Maureen.”

Maureen grins. “You know, I really haven’t. A cat mom then, still a cat mom now.”

Clary opens her mouth, about to respond, when Maureen’s brows come together worriedly. “Oh no, you’re shivering. Gosh you must be so cold out here, let’s get you and the munchkins inside.”

Clary rolls her eyes, but rubs her arms anyway. “What about you, you’re wearing barely anything.”

“Yes, but I’ve always been able to withstand the cold while you would be asking to go inside every two seconds,” Maureen says, already walking over to the cats and scooping Vamp up. She coos at him, and something in Clary’s heart melts despite the cold. “C’mon bean, you can cuddle with your new boyfriend when we’re inside.”

“It’s not my fault you and Simon wanted to have your band practices outside in the middle of winter.” Clary picks up Gravy as well and adjusting him in her arms. He meows indignantly but starts to purr when she scratches his head to appease him.

“It was for the _atmosphere_ , Clary.” Maureen starts to walk across the yard.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what you always said.” Clary makes a face. “Hey, where are you going?”

Maureen stops, still cuddling Vamp. “Inviting you back to my place? You were cold, and it’s right next door.”

“Oh, no,” Clary protests. “I’d hate to intrude, plus my cat attracted yours over here so you might as well come in.”

Maureen rolls her eyes. “Well mine invaded your yard so now you can invade my home as payback.” She steps across the little row of plants separating their yards and strolls ahead.

Clary sighs and follows, clutching Gravy. She follows Maureen up the bricked steps and waits as she unlocks the door. 

Loathe to admit, it really is incredibly toasty in Maureen’s home. Clary looks around, marveling a little at the decor. The walls of the living room are painted mustard with white wainscotting, and most of the furniture is dark brown with an assortment of dark green and gray-blue throw pillows and accents. It reminds her of the clumsy, nervous but incredibly earnest Maureen she knew in middle school before she moved away, except everything is more refined, more together, like everything in the room has purpose.

Gravy squirms in her arms, cutting Clary out of her thoughts, and she lets him go onto the carpeted floor. “Sorry,” she says, apologetically, turning towards Maureen. “I can drop him off at home if he starts messing around.”

Maureen laughs, suddenly standing in the entryway leading further into the house. Clary wonders distantly just how long she’d been mindlessly staring at her home, because suddenly Maureen is holding a tray with two mugs of what looks like warm cider, and surely Clary hadn’t zoned out long enough for her to heat those up, right?

“It’s fine,” Maureen says, and Clary looks up from the cider to her. She’s taken off the puffer vest, the cream colored long sleeve she’s wearing a milky contrast to her skin. Clary looks down, and the sleeves wrap around Maureen’s hands. _Sweater paws._ She looks… beautiful, and at home, hip cocked against the wall in her denim skirt and tights. Maureen has surely noticed Clary staring by now, but she can’t seem to stop. Her head can’t wrap around that this gorgeous, put together _neurology_ student is the same Maureen that was one of her closest friends in middle school, arguably the most awkward time of anyone’s life, who dated her best friend before breaking up because it was a middle school relationship, of course they broke up. The awkward, bespeckled nerd with the penchant for relating situations to random facts she had learned, a direct parallel to Simon but with less fandom references and more encyclopedic knowledge. She can’t seem to mash the two puzzle pieces together in her head, yet she knows they’re clearly the same person. It’s obvious in the way Maureen holds her cat, the way she welcomed Clary, an old friend, into her home without a second thought, the way she’s looking at Clary now with something like amusement and fondness in her eyes.

Clary gulps. Fuck, she hasn’t seen Maureen in so long, and something in her lights up and sends her a reminder that she hasn’t seen Maureen since before she knew she was a lesbian, and that some part of her awkward, tween self always thought the other girl was cute. These thoughts are _not_ helping, Clary tells herself, and she finally wills herself to talk after staring so intensely at Maureen for… god, it’s been minutes now, hasn’t it? Shit. 

Clary takes a second, wracking her brain trying to remember the last thing Maureen said. Right, the cats. “Cool,” she says, dumbly. _Perfect, Clary Fray, absolutely magnificent._

Maureen laughs again, and oh _hell_ , how had Clary never realized before what a gorgeous laugh it was? She sets the tray down on the coffee table and sits on the couch, gesturing for Clary to join and handing her a steaming mason jar full of cider. They toast, and Clary giggles, sipping the cider. It’s hot, but it’s _so_ good, warming her up even more and she sinks further into the couch, finally relaxing a little.

“So,” Maureen says, and Clary looks up at her. She’s sitting cross legged, leaning forward to look at Clary. “Why the name Gravy?”

“Oh,” Clary says, and laughs a little. “He was a present from my Uncle Magnus a few years ago. Well, not really my uncle, but we’re close enough that he might as well be.” She gestures a bit with her hands, making sure not to spill the jar of cider. “He calls me Biscuit, and Gravy is gray, so we said Gray-vee, as a joke, and it stuck.” She pauses, sips the cider. “So now we’re Biscuit and Gravy.”

Maureen coos, and Clary blushes. “Aww, that’s cute. Much cuter than Vamp’s name origin story.”

Clary laughs out loud at that. “Maureen, your cat has a beautiful and incredibly well thought out name, and don’t you let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Maureen says, bowing a little and chuckling.

They spend a few minutes in silence, drinking cider on the couch together, and watching their cats, who’ve grouped up together again and lie across each other on the carpeted floor.

“You know,” Clary says. “Gravy doesn’t take to others very often or well.”

“Funny,” Maureen replies. “Neither does Vamp.”

“Hm, maybe because of his name.”

“Okay, hey!” Maureen protests loudly, and Clary bursts into giggles. “Who was the one who was just telling me to cherish and embrace my cat’s _beautiful_ name?”

“Okay, okay!” Clary says, still giggling. “Anyway, back to my main point. Obviously, our cats have fallen deeply in love with each other, and I would hate to separate them after they’ve spent months being right next door to each other without knowing.” Clary finds that she might not be talking about the cats anymore, but she continues anyway. “So they should have regular playdates.”

“Obviously,” Maureen quips back, and Clary feels any tension at the proposal quickly falling away. “And they’re both, what, teens? So they should _definitely_ have parental supervision.”

“Oh yeah,” Clary says, nodding furiously. “The things kids get up to these days.”

“Of course. We’re just being responsible cat moms.”

“Definitely.”

They grin at each other, gazes fully turned away from the cats they’re talking about. Meanwhile in the corner, Gravy and Vamp continue to cuddle each other, oblivious to their mom’s flirting or that in a short year, they’d be moving into the same house, never to be apart again.

But that’s in a year.

For now, they’re in Maureen’s living room, the humans are drinking cider and laughing, the cats are snuggled together, and more than just the cats in the room are quickly on the way to falling in love.

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all enjoyed! talk to me on twitter @[coffeemundane](https://twitter.com/coffeemundane)


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